Monday, April 22, 2002

I had a pretty quiet weekend. I was hoping and expecting something wild and fun, but it turned out to be rather dull. Oh, those expectations, how they will disappoint you.

On Friday I didn’t do much of anything. Laundry, played on the computer and went to bed before 11:00. All week, when I had to be up at 5:30, I never got to bed before 1:00am. But when I can sleep in, I’m in bed at an early hour. Go figure…

Saturday, I cleaned the house—will the fun never stop? It took an hour to clean my bathroom (always too disgusting for words). I have no idea how in a room where I use nothing but soap can get so disgusting. You’d think it would somehow self-clean. At least in my dreams.

Saturday evening, a buddy and I were supposed to go to the Lonestar together, after talking and planning for the last week, he chickened out. It totally pissed me off. Not because he chickened out, but the way he did it. He was excited about going until a few days before when, suddenly, he remembered “previous plans.” He said might not be able to leave in time and I told him we didn’t have to leave until 8:30. He kept saying it might take longer. The event he was going to started at 3:00 and we weren’t leaving until 8:30—I think 5.5 hours is enough for a damn barbeque, don’t you?

About 5:30 he left a message for me saying he would meet me up there, which is his way of saying, “I’m not going, but don’t want to admit it, so I’ll give you the false hope that I’ll see you, but no F’ing way am I going to do that.” I immediately figured out the excuses he was going to use: 1) too tired (from the 5.5 hours he spent at this party), 2) too drunk to drive, 3) didn’t know how to get to the bar (even though the last time he held the map as we drove up there). Any time we have ever had to drive to SF he freaks and can’t do it. He’s scared to drive up there.

So, I went alone.

Not nearly as much fun as last time. I was hoping at least to talk to someone… I didn’t speak to anyone—except the bartender. Sadly, there was no sighting of The Cutie, which I am still bummed on two days later. Lonestar had a totally different crowd this week: there was some sort of Leather-Thing going on at The Eagle and they filtered their way to Lonestar. I am not a leather-boy in any sense (my jacket is fricken suede for crimminy’s sake!). So I had two beers and a cigar (a lovely Hoyo de Monterey), then headed home.

The drive is much longer when you’re not floating on air…

I woke up early on Sunday (first words out of my sister: “YOU were home early.” i.e. YOU didn’t get laid last night.”). I made Scott McCandless’ birthday card (a picture of Lukas Ridgestone and a wonderful Buddhist quote about happiness being all around oneself).

I set off for Scott’s BD brunch at Bella Mia—was late and yet still was the first to arrive. No one I know is ever on time. We are the latest group of people in the world. I don’t know if any of us have ever arrived to anything less than 15 minutes late. Well, we’re nothing if not consistent.

Bella Mia normally has a really nice brunch, but my eggs seemed oddly shaped and somehow I felt disappointed in my eggs. How does one become disappointed in food? I know it seems impossible, but I did it. We then walked around downtown checking out the construction and slowly drifted apart as people had plans.

Eventually, Scott, Larry and I went to see “The Fluffer,” at the Towne. For what it was, it was alright. The ‘fluffee’ was unbelievably hot. Just incredible to look at—I couldn’t have hoped for a better looking dude. He was very convincing as a porn star—man, I wish he was one.

I know they were trying to be ‘mainstream’ in this film, but there was no edge to the film. The sex could have been much more erotic without ever having to show something. Instead, they showed nothing—and based on the looks of this guy, I was hoping for a little something more. Sex consisted of sound effects of sucking and a guy throwing his head back saying, “yeah.” Porn is about sex—mainstream is more about eroticism. They could have made those scenes more exciting than any porn I’ve seen. Especially considering that Wash West was a co-writer/co-director on this.

Wash West is a very well known porn director, particularly for his extremely erotic porn videos. There is a wonderful scene in a film called Animus (a surprise because it had 1) a plot, 2) good acting 3) great sex). Picture it: two “tops” are fooling around, neither is willing to bottom, so they end up simulating anal sex, rubbing against each other in a way that was more erotic and much hotter than any penetration scene I’ve ever seen.

Frankly, I had much higher expectations.

I decided to go home and read before I watched the greatest show on television: Six Feet Under. I am reading a wonderful Buddhist book called “Chasing Elephants.” The premise is not to look outside yourself for happiness—don’t expect others to do things for you and be disappointed by them. My favorite quote is “Only our searching for happiness prevents us from seeing it.” You have to let things be as they are: “It is what it is.” A fascinating premise. So, I started to re-evaluate my weekend and it turns out it was pretty good.

Saturday may not have been what I had hoped it would be at the Lonestar, but I was out among men I enjoy. I may have not been what those men were looking for, but I was there, I was out, the evening was lovely and the men were fun to watch.

The movie may not have been all that I wanted, but it was still a fun movie.

The nice thing about this is that it puts me in a more relaxed state. If one expects too much from others, they are disappointed. If one lets people be as they are, then we open ourselves up to new feelings and adventures.

I just hope the book gets better—I was expecting an easier read…

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